Lost & Found
by penny4him
Summary: AR. Drizzt's son Zaknafein goes hunting and gets lost in the woods...can the nine-year-old hang on until Drizzt finds him? Can Drizzt get there before the wolves do? Follows Insomnia & Camping, but can also stand alone. All reviews appreciated.
1. Lost

_Disclaimer: The recognizable characters appearing in this story are © Wizards of the Coast, Inc., all rights reserved. They are used without permission and for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made by the author for writing this story. No infringement upon nor challenge to the rights of the copyright holders is intended; nor should any be inferred._

**Lost & Found**

Chapter 1: Lost

Zaknafein Do'Urden was lost. Lost! The icy grip of panic was squeezing his heart and it was hard to breathe. He was lost, the deer was gone, and it was getting dark. Earlier that afternoon nine-year-old Zak had gone hunting. He was getting pretty good at shooting squirrels and rabbits with the bow his father had made him. Birds were still too difficult – they always noticed him no matter how stealthy he though he was being. Zak stood still beneath the trees, catching his breath as his thoughts wandered back to the beginning of the hunt...

After about a half-hour of walking through the woods Zak crouched silently in the brush, an arrow fitted on his bowstring, eyes intent on a nearby rabbit. Suddenly he heard a rustling and was amazed to see a large buck step out of the trees. Heart pounding with excitement, Zak stood up ever so slowly and drew back on the bowstring. Without warning a crow began cawing overhead. Immediately the deer's head came up. Zak let the arrow fly, but the deer was already running. Zak took off after it, notching another arrow as he ran. He'd retrieve the other arrow later. Up came the bow. For a second it looked like he'd have a clear shot, but then the deer zigzagged. Zak crashed through a tangle of branches and leapt a fallen log. The deer was fast, but so was he, his elven heritage enabling him to achieve speeds that would seem impossible to the average human. All those footraces with Violet were also paying off; he was keeping pace with the deer! He stayed with it for several seconds. Zak shot again but missed cleanly. His side was beginning to burn and the deer was getting away. He let his eyes slip into Darkvision to see the deer more easily. He reached to the quiver on his back for another arrow and notched it, but the warm shape of the deer was getting farther and farther away from him. Zak let his arrow fly again, only to hear the dull thud of it smacking into a tree. His side was really burning now. Finally he slowed, then stopped running. Regretfully he watched as the warm shape of the deer grew smaller and smaller through the trees. At last he couldn't see it anymore.

Zak slowly and carefully worked his arrow out of the tree. He'd already lost two today and didn't want to break this one on top of that. When at last it came free he stood there, still panting, and realized he was lost.

_A/N: What do you think so far? There's a little button down there marked "review"... :)_


	2. STOP

A/N: Credit for the "STOP" acronym in this chapter as well as the style of emergency shelter goes to a "camping skills" class I took over a decade ago.

Does Zak seem older than a nine-year-old? I wanted him to be pretty mature – after all, Drizzt is his daddy! Okay, back to the story...

Chapter 2: STOP

After the initial surge of panic, Zak took a deep breath and slipped the arrow back into his quiver. In his mind he could hear his father's voice saying, "If you ever get lost, the first rule is to _stop_. In fact, the _moment_ you are ever unsure of your position you should stop."

Drizzt had taken Zak & Violet camping earlier in the year and it had been that first night, sitting around the campfire, when he had taught them what to do if they ever got lost. "_STOP_," Zak thought. Each letter of the word "stop" stood for another word. "S" was for _sit_. No sense wasting energy by needlessly pacing around or even standing. Zak looked around the small clearing and noticed a fallen log. He sank down on it. "T" was for _think_. "Fight fear by thinking reasonably," father had said. Okay. Before Zak had left today he'd told mum that he was going hunting and would be back around sunset. He'd walked mostly north for the entire first half-hour before he'd taken aim on the rabbit. After the deer emerged, which way had he chased it? How far? They had done too many zigzags; Zak couldn't be sure. "_Why was I so stupid?!"_ he berated himself. At least mum had seen which way he had gone; hopefully they would know where to start looking for him. The thought brought him some comfort.

Zaknafein rubbed his hands over his face. What did "O" stand for? He couldn't remember the word, but he knew he was supposed to look around for landmarks, _look around_...that was it! "O" was for _observe_. His little sister Violet didn't know what that word meant. Dad had said, "It means to look around and pay attention to things." What things? How long till it'll get dark, the weather, where there might be water, landmarks... Then Vi had asked what "landmarks" were. Zak smiled slightly, remembering how his little sister never seemed to stop asking questions. What if he never saw her again? What if no one found him? Suddenly there was a lump in Zak's throat and it was hard to swallow. "_No!_" he told himself. "_Calm down. Look around._" The trees were too tall, and it was too cloudy to see any mountain peaks. The sun was low on the horizon and the shadows were long. Not long till sunset. The sky was _very_ cloudy; it might rain. Zak listened carefully but he didn't hear any tell-tale gurgle or trickle of running water. If he climbed a tree maybe he'd be able to see some familiar landmarks or even their house!

Zaknafein jumped up directly and selected a sturdy looking oak. He grasped the lower branches and hoisted himself up. He was quickly at the top but still couldn't make out any mountain peaks for the clouds. There were other, taller groups of trees aways off and he couldn't see the forest edge anywhere, not to mention any buildings. The clouds hung low, just below the tallest tree tops. Dejectedly Zak climbed down again and sank back down on the log. _Sit, think, observe..._ "P" stood for _plan_. "Make a plan and then act on it," father had said. The letter "P" was also a reminder to _prioritize_ and _pray_. Zak remembered father's explanation of what _priorities_ were. "Your first _priority_ is shelter," he had said.

Zak got up. Shelter was first. Fire was second because it was getting chilly, and it would keep wild animals away. Water was third. Food wasn't important. He quickly started gathering dead branches and dry leaves. The sun was setting. Soon he had a big pile. Zak broke off a long dead branch, longer than he was tall. He wedged one end of it up in the Y-shaped crook of a tree, at about waist height. The other end rested on the ground. He started leaning branches on both sides of the main branch to make an A-shape and quickly had a small shelter thrown up with just enough room for him to crawl in and lie down. The top end of the shelter (against the tree) would be above his head, but the bottom part would just barely have enough room for his feet when he'd crawl in and lay down. Zak stuffed the little make-shift shelter with dry leaves, trying not to think about all the bugs that were probably going to be sharing his bed. He was glad father had built a shelter like this with him and Violet on the camping trip. That had just been for fun one afternoon. Or so he thought.

The sun was almost down. Time for a fire. "_Hurry Zak, hurry!_" he kept telling himself. He had a flint rock and a small hunting knife. Zak crumpled up some dry leaves and quickly shaved several curls of wood off of a dead branch. He scraped the blade of his knife against the flint and sparks showered down but nothing caught flame. Zak tried again and again. It was quite dark now and he was getting cold. There was a chilly wind. Zak's fingers were growing numb as he scraped the flint. The knife slipped and he nicked a finger on his left hand. Zak sucked on the injury, the metallic taste of blood bitter in his mouth, and tried not to cry – what if he couldn't get the fire started? What if a wild animal got him? There were wolves, and worse in the woods. "_Stop it!_" he told himself, taking a deep breath. "_Stop_." That reminded him – sit, think, observe, plan & pray. He hadn't prayed yet.

Zaknafein hadn't prayed very much before, but he'd heard his father pray a few times. "Mielikki," he began, "These are Your woods. Help me to start this fire. Help me to be found and to be safe. Help me to know what to do."

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A/N: Click on that review button, k?


	3. Watches of the Night

Chapter 3: Watches of the Night

Zak rubbed his tear filled eyes with the back of his hand and positioned the flint above the tinder again. "_Don't cry,_" he told himself firmly. What was he doing wrong? The wind was cold on his face, it's sharp bite stinging his eyes. That was it! The wind! He had to put his back to the wind! Zak shifted position, cramped leg muscles protesting, and tried again. This time the sparks showered down over the tinder and it began to glow. Zak blew gently and soon had a small flame. He carefully added some tiny twigs, then small sticks, and finally bigger ones. The flames licked them up and he continued adding larger and larger sticks and finally an entire tree branch. Soon the clearing grew warm and bright. "Thank you Mielikki," Zaknafein whispered, looking up at the darkened sky.

Now Zak went back and forth, gathering as many dry sticks and branches as he could find until he had a large pile once more. He even managed to drag a small fallen tree back into the clearing. He figured he could burn it bit by bit. Zak fed the fire. "HEY!" he shouted. "HELLO! I'M HERE!" He waited, but only the crickets and the night wind answered. The half-drow sat back down on the log and pulled one end of the fallen tree onto the fire.

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Cattie-brie paced back and forth across the small kitchen. Zak wasn't back. Drizzt wasn't back. And Violet was laying in her bunk listlessly, her eyes bright with fever. Cattie stirred the pot of chicken broth on the hearth and willed it to warm up faster. She glanced out of the window into the darkness and paced, and prayed.

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Drizzt finished cleaning his scimitars and started for home. A pack of tundra yetis had been terrorizing the local farms, but no more. It had taken a bit of work, but now the bodies of the three monsters lay burning in a pyre behind him. Drizzt shivered in the chill fall air and drew his cloak more tightly around him. He'd be glad to get inside their snug little house tonight. Hopefully Cattie-brie had something warm waiting.

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Cattie-brie fed six-year-old Violet another spoonful of broth and gently brushed the child's stark white hair back from her face. It hung in damp little ringlets from the fever. Two days ago Violet had come back early from playing at Ella's house because Ella wasn't feeling well. This afternoon Vi had come down with a fever too. Cattie offered another spoonful of broth but Violet pushed it away weakly and lay back on the pillow, eyes falling shut. Cattie-brie felt her forehead again and went to get a cool wet cloth to lay on it. Her eyes fell on her bow, Taulmaril, hanging by the door. She glanced towards the bedroom where her sword, Khazid'hea lay in it's sheath. Violet moaned softly, drawing Cattie's attention back to the present. She glanced out the window again and listened to the howling of the wind. Her boy was out there and she couldn't do anything about it.

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Zaknafein was singing a dwarven mining song grandpa Bruenor had taught him:

_Gold, silver mithral,_

_Pick axe, furnace ore!_

_Mine until it's morning,_

_Then go mine some more!_

_Hammer, forge, steel,_

_Smelt and smith and pound!_

_Longsword, axes, maces,_

_Listen to the sound!_

It was good to sing if you were lost; mum had told him that once – that way people would hear you, and it gave you something to do.

Zak finished the song and added more wood to the fire. "Hello!" he shouted, looking out across the dark clearing. "Father! I'm over here! Hey!" The last echoes of his shouts faded away and Zak shivered. "_Don't cry,_" he told himself again. If he started, he didn't think he'd be able to stop. Maybe when morning came the fog and clouds would disappear and he's be able to see a familiar mountain peak or some other landmark from the treetops. Zak built up the fire, crawled into his little shelter, and started singing the mining song again.

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A/N: Okay, sorry, I said that Drizzt was going to be in this chapter, but he wasn't really. He'll be in the next one! Review, please?


	4. The Terror of the Night

Chapter 4: The Terror of the Night

Drizzt entered the warm house thankfully and began pulling off his boots. He heard Cattie-brie enter the kitchen. "It's sure a chilly night–"

"Drizzt," Cattie-brie interrupted.

Somewhat surprised, the drow looked up from his unlacing. He kicked his boots off, noticing her distraught expression with concern.

"Drizzt," she began again, her voice rough with emotion, "Zaknafein...he's–" she had a hard time continuing around the lump in her throat. "Zaknafein's out there!" She burst into tears and in an instant Drizzt had his arms around her.

"Cattie, where did he go? Was he hunting?" His voice was calm, but urgent nonetheless.

She nodded, between sobs. "He was heading North, and he said he'd be back at sunset but he wasn't, and Violet's got a high fever so I couldn't go out and look for him, and I'm so worried! And...and...oh Drizzt!" Her words were all coming out in a jumble.

"Okay, okay, calm down; calm down _ussta che_, I'll go and find him. Don't worry _che_, don't worry – just stay here with Violet, take care of Violet, okay?"

Cattie-brie nodded once, wiping her face on her sleeve. "Oh Drizzt! It's dark and cold out there..."

"I know, _che_, I know. Don't worry; Zaknafein knows what to do, he _knows_ what to do Cattie. He's smart and strong. Our Zaknafein is smart and strong." Drizzt hugged Cattie to him again briefly and tugged his boots back on. He laced them with the fast dexterity of a fighter, black fingers almost a blur.

"Drizzt, what if a wild animal–"

"No, Cattie-brie." His tone was kind but firm. "No what-ifs." Then he turned and stepped out into the night.

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Drizzt fingered the onyx panther figurine in his pouch but hesitated. Guenhwyvar could really only come to the Material Plane for a half-day every other day. And she had been here for more than half a day already today, helping him with the tundra yetis, not to mention a couple of lean and hungry wolves he had encountered on the way home. _Wolves_. What if Zaknafein hadn't been able to get a fire going – if, for instance, he was injured? The wolves were hungry this fall and a weak target would– "_No._" The ranger had spoken the word aloud. No what-ifs. It was a futile and dangerous course of thought.

Drizzt, with effort, took his runaway thoughts captive and looked instead to his tracking. By moonlight it was nearly impossible, even with his innate Darkvision. The first hour had been relatively easy, thankfully. Zak's trail had gone straight North. A few times Drizzt thought he had lost the trail, but careful inspection of the ground and low branches always revealed it again. A scuff mark here, a broken branch there. Still, it was slow going. Tracking by moonlight took more than twice as long – indeed, for most people it would have been impossible.

Now the trail grew sporadic. Zaknafein had stood _here_, had shot at _something_ – Drizzt found one of his arrows, the white feathers sticking up from the brush – and then the boy had apparently taken off at a run. Drizzt crouched down and studied the ground, but it was very dark; the clouds were completely blocking out the moonlight now. The wind howled mournfully, and, somewhere in the distance its song was joined by the howl of a wolf. That did it – Drizzt swept the panther figurine out of his pack and called Guenhwyvar to him.

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Zak woke suddenly – what had he heard? The fire was almost out. He crawled out of his tiny shelter and began to add more wood. Suddenly he felt a glacial tingle on the nape of his neck – _something_ was out there! He spun around, frantically scanning the clearing, but seeing nothing. He let his eyes slip into Darkvision, and there, sitting just inside the tree line was a wolf – the largest wolf Zaknafein had ever seen. It sat perfectly still, watching him. Zak slowly and deliberately moved so that the fire was between them. He pulled the hunting knife from its sheath on his hip and brandished it. "GO ON!" he yelled. "GET OUT OF HERE!" The wolf didn't move. The hairs on Zak's neck were prickling again. He turned, and saw a second wolf, slightly smaller than the first. It was stalking towards him, ever so slowly, from the other side of the clearing. Zak turned to face it and the wolf stopped moving, yellow eyes glowing menacingly in the darkness. "HEY!" he screamed, as loudly as he could, "GET OUTTA HERE!" The hand that held the hunting knife was shaking.

The wolves did not seem the least bit perturbed by the noise; in fact both began advancing now. Zak's mind raced – what could he do? He put his back to the fire, and, on sudden inspiration, pulled a burning branch from the cracking flames. The wolf on his right stopped advancing. The wolf on his left did not. Zaknafein slammed his knife back into its sheath and took another burning branch in his left hand. He swung the flaming branches in the direction of the wolves and the smaller one jumped back while the other merely retreated a step or two. His heart raced and the blood was pounding in his ears. It was hard to breath. How long could he keep them at bay? Would they give up in search of an easier meal? Zak's hands were growing warm as the flames licked hungrily at the wood, closer and closer. Desperately he lunged at the smaller wolf, flaming branch extended, yelling at the top of his lungs. It turned and ran. He whirled back to face the remaining wolf, just in time to see an enormous black creature come flying out of the woods to pounce on it. Guenhwyvar! A single snap of her mighty jaws and the wolf's neck bones were broken.

Zak dropped the flaming branches, fingers singed. He heard snarling from behind him and whirled again, instinctively drawing the hunting knife. Father stood there, a fierce light in his eyes and gleaming scimitars in hand. The blade of one was bloody nigh to the hilt. The second wolf lay on the ground, twitching. Drizzt swept Icingdeath down again and finished it with one neat stroke. Then he sheathed the scimitars, blood and all, and was across the clearing in two steps, crushing Zaknafein to him.

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_ussta che = my love_

_che = love_

A/N: To be continued. There is still one more chapter. All reviews appreciated, and, I must say, a huge thank-you to everyone who reviewed already; it is always an inspiration to write more and to improve my writing!


	5. Found

Chapter 5: Found

"Zaknafein! Thank Mielikki," Drizzt breathed. And then, "Are you alright?" Even as he asked, the ranger was quickly and carefully checking for wounds. Zak's hands were slightly singed, but nothing serious. In Darkvision he could see a small cut on one finger, showing itself to be new because it glowed with more heat than the surrounding skin. Not deep, and not unusual for his adventurous son.

Zak did not speak. The last ten minutes had felt like a surreal haze, moving in slow motion. He still held the small hunting knife, clenched in a white-knuckled grip.

Drizzt gently pried the knife out of his son's fierce grasp and returned it to the sheath on the boy's hip. Zaknafein looked at him blankly, still caught in the thrall of shock. Drizzt swept off his dark green cloak and wrapped it around his son's small shoulders.

All at once Zak began to shake – his entire body was shaking and he couldn't stop.

Drizzt squatted down and sat the boy on his knee, rubbing his back and arm. "It's okay Zak. You're safe now."

Zaknafein didn't want to cry – he _didn't_, but he couldn't help himself. Hot tears began racing down his face and sobs tore themselves from his throat. Drizzt hugged him close and Zak cried into the front of his tunic, comforted by the familiar outdoorsy smells of pine and woodsmoke that always clung to his father's clothing. Comforted, and yet at the same time thinking, "_Father must think I'm such a baby! I've got to stop crying!_"

"I'm so proud of you Zaknafein," Drizzt murmured. He continued gently rubbing Zaknafein's back and said once more, "I'm so proud of you."

Zak was, admittedly, a little surprised – after all, he wasn't being very strong now, was he? He continued to lean against his father's chest, safe in the circle of his arms. After awhile he began to feel calmer and the shaking subsided.

Finally Zak's tears stopped. He looked up at his father and smiled weakly. Drizzt smiled back. Then Zaknafein leaned over his father's arm and – quite calmly, Drizzt thought with some irony, proceeded to throw up. Too much adrenaline in his small body. Drizzt chuckled quietly and fished the water skin out of his pack. "Better now?" he asked, handing Zak the water. He casually kicked some dirt and dead leaves with his foot.

Zaknafein nodded, taking a few sips. Drizzt gently brushed a few stray wisps of his son's unruly auburn hair away from the boy's face. He was concerned that Zak hadn't spoken yet but he didn't let it show. He just continued to cradle the boy on his knee quietly.

Guenhwyvar was laying down on the other side of the fire, looking greatly fatigued. Drizzt smiled at her and gave a nod of thanks. The panther blinked her huge yellow eyes once in response. She needed to rest on her own plane. "Go home, Guenhwyvar," Drizzt said quietly. Then he just sat for awhile by the fire, cradling Zaknafein and staring at the embers, lost in thought.

"F-Father?" Zaknafein choked out. Drizzt looked down at him and smiled gently, much-relieved inside. Now the words came tumbling out, fast and furious. "Oh Father! I went hunting and I was walking North, but then there was this big buck, and I was so excited, but a crow cawed and the deer started running so I chased it, 'cause I thought I could still shoot it while I ran, but it got away–" Zak's eyes were stinging again, fiercely. "...And, and when I pried my arrow out of the tree I was lost!" He rubbed his eyes savagely. "I should've paid better attention to where I was going, but I remembered the "STOP" thing you told us in case we got lost, and I...I climbed a tree but it was too cloudy to see any landmarks!" The lump was back in Zak's throat and a single tear slipped down his cheek. Drizzt hugged him tighter. "I couldn't get the fire going, but Mielikki helped me because I prayed and then right after that I remembered to put my back to the wind...oh, I made the shelter first though, just like the one we made on our camping trip, and I sang Grandpa Bruenor's mining song...but then the wolves came, and I was so scared, but I knew I had to do something..." his voice cracked; in his mind he was recalling those seemingly interminable minutes with the wolves advancing and the flames burning his hands though he dared not let go of the blazing branches. "The wolves were...but then..." Zak couldn't hold it back, his shoulders shook with a suppressed sob and then he was crying again. The horror of those moments with the wolves was too fresh in his mind.

"It's okay Zak," Drizzt said gently, "You're safe now."

"I was so scared–"

"I know, _dalharuk_, I know, but you're safe now. The wolves are dead; look at them, they're dead, and if more come I'll kill those too."

Zaknafein breathed a shuddery sigh. He looked at the stiff, lifeless bodies of the wolves; the heat was rapidly leaving their bodies – before they had glowed a vibrant red when viewed in Darkvision, but now they were just a pale orangish-yellow, growing paler by the second. Dead. Father was here. He was safe now. Zak mopped his face with his sleeve. After a bit he felt calmer. Everything would be okay because father was here.

"You did good, Zak," Drizzt said. "You did everything right."

"But I got lost, I _shouldn't_ have–"

"We all get lost sometimes," Drizzt interjected. "I've been lost before."

"You have?" Zak could hardly believe it.

Drizzt nodded. "More than once."

Zaknafein considered. "But I bet you've never gotten sick after a fight."

Drizzt smiled ruefully. "Actually I have."

"Oh." Zaknafein found it a bit hard to believe that his father would ever throw up. "Really?"

"Yes, but let's not tell your grandpa Bruenor that one, okay?"

"Okay." Zak smiled slightly. So it didn't mean that he was weak after all.

As if on some silent cue Zak and Drizzt both stood up, Drizzt groaning inwardly as he stretched his cramped leg muscles. The drow let one hand rest casually on a scimitar hilt and squeezed Zak's shoulder tenderly with the other. "Let's go home."

THE END

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_dalharuk = son_

A/N: What do you think? I hope the ending wasn't too cliché; I wanted it to be realistic but sweet nonetheless. Thanks to everyone who reviewed already. I really appreciate it. Feel free to click that "review" button again or for the first time!


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